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by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Gap Filler, Points of View
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-08
Updated: 2004-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: An episode 206 gap-filler. Takes place at the end of the episode: just a look into Brian's thoughts.





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**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

“. . . but that’s not the reason I want you to stay.”

I pause; I don’t really know how I should continue . . . I just know that I have to. I owe it to him.

His eyes are an electrical shade of blue, and his face lights up. And the best part is that I know that I’ve been the one to do that. The one to give him hope.

I open my mouth, and I wish I could tell him exactly . . .

Everything . . . everything.

‘…you think that you’ve got everybody fooled . . . you love him, don’t ya?’

Debbie’s words re-echo in my ears.

I didn’t deny it, God, why didn’t I deny it, why didn’t I shake my head, or shrug my shoulders, or. . . why didn’t I say anything?

Anything, anything at all.

If only I had done that . . . 

Maybe now it would be simpler, lying to myself, pretending it isn’t true . . .

Maybe it would be simpler, looking in his eyes, pushing away the desire of telling him, of admitting to him . . .

…the truth… you love him… 

. . . just to see his eyes shine.

I could . . . give him the world in three simple words . . .

In a second I could heal the heart that I hurt so many times. I could fix it, piece after piece, until it is whole again . . .

Until it is all for me again.

I could give him a new reason to smile his Sunshine smile.

A reason to hold on, even when the nightmares trouble his sleep, or when he feels he has lost his every last hope, or when he thinks he’s broken . . .

I could do that for him, and for me.

I could open myself up to another person, for the first time. I could . . . risk it . . . at least . . . this time.

I could entrust him with . . . my broken heart, and pray that he will fix it fast.

I could just . . .

“. . . but, don’t get the idea that we are some straight couple . . .”

. . . and then, I can’t do it.

Just like the other times, I can’t do it.

I start blabbering about how we’re not hetero, or dykes, and how, if I’m out late, it’s because I’m fucking.

At least I’m being honest.

I won’t stop tricking just because we are in a . . . kind of relationship.

And, luckily, Justin knows that. He understands that.

I can read it in his eyes.

That’s a thing he has always gotten.

Like when, the other day, he told me he knew who I am, knew I will never change, and he doesn’t want me to change and he doesn’t ask this of me.

And maybe that’s one of the reasons why. . .

. . . I love him . . .

“. . . and, when I come home, I’d be doing exactly what I want to do . . .”

I lower my eyes for a moment.

I’m a coward. I know. I admit it.

I’m a fucking coward, and I sure as hell don’t have the big, hairy cajones Debbie talked about.

It’s just that . . . I can’t.

I can’t give him my heart . . . because there will be a moment . . . one, fucking moment . . . when he’ll tear it to pieces and he won’t even care.

One day he will see the real me, and he’ll be so fucking terrified that he won’t waste a moment to . . . 

He will leave.

And there will be no looking back.

And I can’t . . .

I can give him only this . . . crumbs . . . half sentences . . . half declarations and . . . half truths.

In a whisper I say, “…coming home to you…”

And maybe there will be a moment when I’ll be the one regretting not telling him.

Maybe one day I’ll find out that admitting you love someone isn’t that horrible.

Sometimes it can hurt, sure, but it’s worth the pain.

But, for now, I can’t. I’m not . . . ready.

But, he accepts that.

And I’m so . . . relieved, that I, too, can accept his rules.

And I do just that, sealing everything with a kiss.

And it’s . . . wonderful.

The euphoria, the passion, the pure and sheer joy that goes through my senses with a kiss. Only with him.

It feels like coming home. Justin feels like . . . home.

I have this insane desire of devouring him . . . I can’t keep apart from him . . . I don’t want to.

I feel the urgency of undressing him and fucking him . . .

... making love to him... 

. . . right here on the dance floor, and screw all the other people.

Instead, after a while I pull back.

Now his eyes are dark like the night, his cheeks flushed, and his lips swollen and red.

And I can’t wait anymore.

I take him by the hand and lead him out of the Babylon, and the cool air seems to sober me for a moment.

But, I need him. I need to feel his skin on mine.

I push him against a wall and capture his lips again; I gain possession of his mouth and his tongue.

This time he’s the one pulling back.

I slowly open my eyes, and I watch him smiling. A bright smile.

And I remember, once again, why it is that Debbie calls him Sunshine.

I was right.

It feels like coming home.


End file.
